Ordinary Lunacies
by native portlandian
Summary: "If thou remember'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not loved." A collection of BBRae-centered one-shots.
1. The Solution

Disclaimer – I do not own, swear.

…

It wasn't that Raven _hated_ Mabel. No, not even close. She was probably the nicest out of the entire team to Beast Boy's girlfriend, much to the general confusion of everyone. Well, maybe nice was a little generous. Raven just stayed out of the way.

Jealous? Her? Absolutely not! Okay, maybe a little bit. Mabel had come into Beast Boy's life at what could have literally been the most inopportune time possible. But Raven didn't hold that against them! Oh, no. Not in the slightest.

Alright, perhaps a _little_.

Raven had worked up every ounce of courage in her body, and was going to tell Beast Boy how she felt. After years of denying it (subconsciously and consciously), she was finally going to accept her romantic inclination for the green teen, swallow her pride, and tell him. She had even got as far as inviting him to get coffee with her. But, as fate would have it, Beast Boy hit it off with the barista: a beautiful blonde with silvery eyes and a mysterious smile. Mabel.

Raven could barely get a word in. Two weeks later, Beast Boy and Mabel were official.

She wasn't mad. It was out of her control. What could she have done? Bad timing was to blame. Just some bad timing.

Raven did take some time to mourn what could have been and pick up her self-esteem from the floor. She stayed in her room even more than usual. It wasn't like she cried or anything; she just…mourned.

About a month into Beast Boy's new relationship, Raven began to notice little things. Beast Boy was quieter. He didn't try to joke with anyone – he just sort of hung back. Raven's worry grew when she realized that when he laughed, it wasn't the full, happy laugh he could be characterized by. The smile didn't reach his eyes, and she felt no amusement coming off of him. It was…disturbing.

The only new factor in Beast Boy's life was Mabel, so Raven deduced that she was the reason. She vowed to pay more attention to the way they acted together. Something told her that if she outright asked Beast Boy he would avoid the question.

Mabel came over for dinner a few days later. Usually when this occurred Raven would find an excuse not to attend, but tonight she stayed. Had she ever really spoken to Mabel? She wasn't sure. Cyborg and Robin had worked together to make a casserole – vegetarian just for Beast Boy. Raven took her seat across from Mabel and prepared to stake out. She wasn't hungry, but pushed her food around all the same.

Mabel was nice. She sat up extremely straight and ate everything with a fork and knife. She tucked her napkin onto her lap. She never spoke with food in her mouth. Raven was shocked. This girl was the exact opposite of Beast Boy when it came to manners.

That's when she started noticing it. Every once in a while, Mabel would glance over at her boyfriend and say something under her breath. Beast Boy would tighten his jaw and fidget. Only…he wasn't fidgeting. He was fixing his posture, or readjusting his fork, or scooting his chair in. Mabel was…fixing him? Raven suddenly felt even more confused than before.

After dinner, while everyone was talking, Raven began to notice more. Cyborg made a stupid joke that Beast Boy couldn't help but crack up at. Raven found it comforting to see him acting like himself again. And then: "God, your laugh is so _annoying_ ," Mabel said. It didn't seem to be intentionally rude, but Beast Boy flushed and immediately shut up. His ears drooped somewhat. Mabel continued to make remarks like this throughout the night; little criticisms of Beast Boy's behavior and appearance. Normally, Raven would find this funny, but Mabel was beginning to cross the line into over-the-top. Beast Boy deflated more and more with each one, sinking into the background. Raven felt somewhat sick.

While Beast Boy walked Mabel to the dock, intending on getting her to the mainland via jet ski, Raven asked her teammates if Mabel was always like that.

"She's really crushed Beast Boy's ego," Robin said. He didn't seem particularly fond of the girl, but Robin was always distrustful of civilians.

"Yeah, normally I'd be all about that, but she is _harsh_." Cyborg was doing the dishes, so Raven couldn't see his face. Nonetheless, he didn't sound amused. "She's crushin' the kid's spirit. I had no idea that was even possible."

"Mabel is…erm…" Starfire tapped her chin, searching for the term. "Oh! Yes! The unfeeling female dog!"

Robin glanced over at Cyborg, who met his gaze over his shoulder. "I only said it _once_ , Rob. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"You were female undergarments?" Starfire asked her leader, small eyebrows drawing together. Cyborg giggled. Robin opened his mouth in what was sure to be a long lecture.

"No," Raven said quickly. She wanted to get back on track. "But Mabel's _always_ like this?"

Cyborg turned away from the sink, leaning his hips against the counter and crossing his arms. "Pretty much. Sometimes girl'll even do it to me!"

"She's messing with our team dynamic," Robin muttered. "I don't like her."

Starfire nodded solemnly. "Normally, I am fond of everyone, but I must agree with friend Robin. I do not like her, either."

Cyborg ran a hand over his bald head. "I liked it better when _you_ made fun of him, Rave. He seemed to take it less seriously."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Don't I know it."

"Maybe you should talk to him," Robin suggested.

The sorceress raised an eyebrow. "Why would that work, Robin?"

The leader shrugged one shoulder. "He looks up to you. I think you're the only person on this team he actually respects."

Raven blushed, but nodded. When Beast Boy came back inside half an hour later, most of the team had retreated to their rooms. It was, after all, getting late. But Raven remained sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV and wondering what exactly she was going to say. What was she supposed to say? She was awful at these sort of things. Beast Boy entered the common room. She knew it was him – no one else had a more invasive aura. Although, lately, it had calmed somewhat. Which was disturbing, to say the least.

"Hey, Raven," he said tiredly. Raven pursed her lips. He was probably about to go to his room. She had to say something now.

"Beast Boy," she choked out at last. His footsteps pause.

"…Yes?" There was a hint of his old spirit in that voice. A little bit of 'oh God what did I do to piss her off this time'. It was comforting.

"Can we…talk?" Azar, what an awful start. Raven restrained herself from burying her head in her hands.

"Uh, sure." He walked over. Instead of vaulting the couch as usual, he walked around and sat down a respectful distance away. Raven briefly wondered _how_ Mabel had managed this particular change.

"Are you…okay?" she began, having trouble meeting his gaze.

Beast Boy wasn't looking at her either. He rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah. Better than ever!" A painfully fake smile. Raven felt like crying. Thankfully, she did not.

"You've been acting out of character lately," she pointed out softly. "I mean, you kept your feet on the floor at dinner."

Beast Boy's smile immediately fell away. His jaw clenched. "Maybe I'm just makin' some changes."

"Why?" He would come to her. He always did.

"I want to be better, Raven!" he said, frustration making his ears flatten. "Why is it bothering you so much?"

Raven rested her gaze on her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. "I'm worried."

"Don't be," Beast Boy growled.

"Everyone else is worried, too," she pressed. Her hands had turned into fists.

"They shouldn't be either!" Beast Boy stood up and started pacing. "Everyone's suddenly so interested in my life! What the hell changed?"

Raven crossed her arms, irritation itching the back of her skull. "You're acting like a kicked puppy all the time, Beast Boy," she muttered. "Why would we ignore that?"

"I'm not a kicked puppy!" His voice had risen to near shouting. "And you all need to mind your own goddamn business!" He whipped around and stalked to the door, anger coming off of him in waves.

"Beast Boy," Raven snapped, standing up. "Stop."

The green teenager did. His muscles tensed. He didn't look at her. Raven began to approach him, slowly.

"We care about you, Beast Boy," she said, softer. "I care about you. Seeing you like… _this_ …hurts me. Us." He still didn't move, but the anger subsided somewhat. "I know you want to be better…for her. But…" she paused, biting her lip, "I liked you just the way you were. We all did."

He was still. She was close enough to reach out and touch him, but she didn't. She could barely see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. And then, with a terrifying suddenness, he spun around and hugged her. His arms held her tight against his lanky frame, his nose buried into the crook of her shoulder. His spiked green hair pressed against her face and chin. She couldn't breathe.

He wasn't letting go anytime soon. Tentatively, Raven wrapped her own thin arms over his neck and shoulders. Doing so made him squeeze her even tighter.

"Thank you," he said into her neck. His hot breath on her skin made the hairs on her arm stand up. In one of the cupboards, she heard a glass shatter. Beast Boy took no heed. "Mabel…she…she's a little…uh…"

"Controlling?" Raven asked. Beast Boy readjusted his face so his chin was resting on her shoulder. A slight laugh rumbled through his frame.

"Sure. Like someone else I know."

He was joking – a good sign. "You know I only want the best for you."

"I know," he said. His chest inflated and deflated with a sigh. His arms tightened minutely. "I'm sorry I snapped at you Rae." She smiled slightly, glad he was turned the other way and couldn't see. Beast Boy continued: "What should I do now?"

Raven thought. "Solve the problem."

Now he loosened his grip, pulling away. Raven immediately found that she missed his warmth. His green eyes fixed on hers, a little lost. "I don't have the solution, Raven." It sounded so sad, so pitiful, that Raven nearly found herself saying, _I'm right here_.

…

A/N – Wow. That turned out much more angsty than I originally intended? Hello, again. So, I am a multitasker. I like to start things. And then I like to stop and do something else because I have the attention span of a three year-old. Anyway, a lot of what I stop and do are BBRae one-shots. So I thought that I could create a bit of a one-shot dump of BBRae goodness! And then I'll be able to focus on my other commitments! Enjoy!


	2. Questions

Beast Boy was confused.

This was not unusual. A lot of things made him feel confused. Like math, or space travel, or Starfire's cooking concoctions. What he was currently confused about was also not unusual: Raven. What was unusual, however, was why Beast Boy was confused.

He was developing feelings for her.

But, of course, being Beast Boy, he had no idea what was happening or why. His feelings for Raven were not as blatantly obvious as his feelings for Terra. It was just…he liked being around her. All the time. It was almost something of a compulsion. Every day, he'd find another way to spend time with her, no matter how Raven felt about it. He had been doing this for a while, almost entirely subconsciously. It took someone pointing it out for him to actually notice.

He had casually suggested that he and Raven take the night's patrol at the Team meeting. Unbeknownst to him, this was the third time that week that this particular suggestion had come up. Robin had raised an eyebrow, but chose not to make a comment. After the meeting, while Beast Boy and Cyborg played video games, the half-robot brought it up.

"What's up with you and Rae?" he asked casually. In reality, he was paying very close attention to Beast Boy's reaction. But the kid wouldn't react normally if he knew Cyborg was seriously asking.

"Whatdya mean?" the green teen asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

Cyborg chewed on the inside of his cheek. "You're always askin' to be on patrol with her."

"Am I?" There was a genuine question there. Cyborg's eyebrows drew together.

"…Yeah."

"Huh." And that was it. They resumed their game and never mentioned it again. But the idea of it lurked in the back of Beast Boy's mind, slowly trudging its way forward.

Why had he requested that patrol? Why had he been doing it so often? What was wrong with it? Why did he suddenly feel so _weird_?

He and Raven were friends. At least, he thought they were. He loved her presence; it made his heart lift and his face get all smilely. That was a friend thing!

Right?

Their patrol that night was relatively standard. Nothing particularly interesting happened. Due to this, Beast Boy had a lot of time to ponder. He crouched beside the girl in question, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She had taken her hood off, something that rarely – if ever – happened on patrol. Her face was relaxed, her eyes shut. Had he never noticed how pretty she was before? Her skin was smooth and clear, as if carved from marble. Her nose was small and slightly quirked up at the end. Her lips were round and supple. They looked soft.

Beast Boy blushed and turned back to his look-out. His heart was pounding against his ribcage so hard he was afraid that she'd be able to hear it. His head was running on a million separate tracks, the most prominent being of when he had first made her smile. It was so long ago, but he remembered it perfectly. She had such a sweet smile.

Okay, so maybe he had a _teensy_ crush on Raven. No big deal! He had crushes on girls all the time! But as the week wore on, Beast Boy became increasingly worried. He thought about her so often that it was turning into something of a minor obsession. It was driving him crazy. Questions marched around his brain in circles: _Does she like me too? Would she ever like me? God, why do I like her so much?_

Questions. Always questions. Beast Boy was terrified of answers.


	3. Lunch (AU)

Garfield hated middle school. Absolutely hated it. He had hated elementary school as well, but at least he had people who _had_ to sit with him. Now, at Walker Middle School, you didn't have to sit with your classmates. Garfield sat by himself.

He was the new kid, the target of bullying and ridicule. When he was the new kid before, in first grade, the kids hadn't been so judgmental. And then Steve and Rita had moved him to this district at the end of fifth grade, claiming that it was simply a better school. They had no idea what a kick his social standing would take. Okay, so it wasn't super great at the old school, but at least people _spoke_ to him.

Gar situated himself on the bench he usually sat during lunch, holding his sack of food. No one else sat over here, which is why he had chosen it. Kids still walked past him, but he wasn't in the direct line of sight of the main lunch tables. That's where the worst bullies were.

He crossed his legs and unfolded his somewhat crinkled lunch bag. Footsteps approached, and Gar glanced up. Three girls were coming toward him. His heart began to quicken. It was Tara, the cutest girl in his grade. She was standing in between her two friends, laughing about something. Her golden hair glimmered in the sunlight. Briefly, her eyes met Garfield's. He smiled and raised his hand.

Her friends saw and started laughing. Tara blushed and grimaced. One of the girls pointed at him and said something under her breath, setting off a new round of laughs. Tara rolled her eyes and began walking faster, passing Garfield and refusing to look in his direction again.

His hand lowered slowly. A familiar blush darkened his cheeks; the girls' laugh echoing in his ears. He brushed the hand over his hair in an attempt to cover the blunder up, but the damage was done. Tears threatened at the back of his eyes, but Gar bit his tongue and forced them away. He hated lunch.

Halfway through his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Garfield became aware of a shadow falling over him. Briefly, he wondered if a cloud had covered the sun, and then the fumes of pubescent B.O. hit his nose. He sighed. "Hello, Adonis."

"Hello, _nerd_ ," the seventh-grader drawled. "Whatcha got for lunch?"

Garfield clenched his teeth, looking up at the older boy from beneath his eyebrows. "A sandwich." Without much warning, Adonis smacked the sandwich out of Gar's hands. It hit the pavement and splattered peanut butter everywhere. "Hey!" Gar squeaked.

"I don't like peanut butter," Adonis growled, shoving his face in Garfield's. The younger boy reared back – Adonis obviously hadn't brushed his teeth today. "What else?"

Suddenly, a red-hot burst of anger exploded in Garfield's chest. He clenched his fingers around the lunch bag and stood. He had hoped to come out taller, but he really only came to Adonis's chest. Little warning signs began to go off in his head, but he ignored them. "That doesn't matter, cuz you're not gettin' any!"

Adonis's nostrils flared in surprised anger. Obviously, no one had stood up to him before. "What was that, pipsqueak?" A few kids walking by had stopped to watch, calling over their friends. A small crowd began to form.

"I said, you're not gettin' any." He enunciated each word, spitting slightly as he did so. Adonis's cocky smile had turned into a sneer.

"I'll give you one last chance, _dweeb_ ," he snarled. The crowd had grown larger. Garfield could barely keep track of the words coming out of his mouth.

"Go pick on someone your own size, you ASS!" The crowd drew in a huge gasp at the forbidden word. A tiny voice at the back of Gar's head let him know that this had not been his best idea. Without much warning, he had been pushed roughly into the bench. Gar nearly collapsed over it, barely saving himself with his hands. As it turned out, he may not have saved himself, because then a huge fist came out of nowhere and slammed into his eye socket. Garfield saw stars, his head slamming against the brick wall behind the bench. Tears streamed out of the eye that had been hit; it was already beginning to swell.

He thought he heard yelling over the sound of his own uncontrollable sobs. Really, he had been hardly aware that he was crying, it had just sort of occurred. As soon as he realized it was happening, he attempted to stifle them. Crying in school? Could you say _social suicide?_

Someone helped him to his feet. Next thing he knew, he was in the nurse's office, an ice pack being applied to his face. His thoughts were sort of swimming in and out of his head like finicky goldfish. He was dimly aware of the fact that he didn't get to finish his lunch.

As it turned out, Adonis had gotten suspended after a teacher had pulled him off of the crying sixth-grader. Garfield was sent home after his guardians were called, still holding an ice pack to his face and wanting to die.

The next day, he didn't get out of bed the first time Rita called. Instead, he curled on his side, fingers poking tenderly at the blackened flesh around his eye. He didn't get up when Steve called, either. In fact, he had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes before his adopted mother actually came in.

"Garfield, sweetheart, you're going to be late for school."

Gar grimaced. "I don't wanna go to school today."

Rita was quiet for a second. Then he heard the ladder to his top bunk creak. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. His adopted mother sat down at the end of his bed, moving aside a stuffed tiger that he couldn't bring himself to get rid of. "Gar," she said, tugging lightly at the blanket. "Sweetheart." Garfield refused to yield his blanket shield. Rita sighed. "Why don't you want to go to school today, honey?"

"I don't fit in," he grumbled. "I never have and I never will. No one likes me."

"Of course people like you, darling." Rita said softly. "Are you just upset over the fight?"

Garfield shook his head. Then he remembered that she couldn't see him. "No. But that's my point, ma. No one wanted to help me. They all just watched him beat me up."

Rita was quiet. Mildly curious, Garfield poked his head above the covers. She was staring at him, a very serious, sad expression on her face. He'd seen it before. A lot, actually. Mostly at the beginning, after his parents died. It was pity.

"I just know you'll make friends, Garfield," Rita murmured. "But you have to try." He agreed, albeit hesitantly, to go to school after that.

When the bell rang for lunch, Gar prepared for the worst. He had been getting stares all day at his stupid black eye. Even with Adonis suspended, his friends still made rude remarks when the teacher was out of earshot. It was just as awful as Gar knew it would be.

He sat at his usual spot, pulling up a new paper lunch bag. It took him nearly three minutes to notice that the bench next to his was occupied. There was a girl there, his age. She was wearing a black jacket with the hood up, even though it was a sunny day. Gar didn't recognize her. Tips of her black hair poked out from her hood. Her deep blue eyes were focused on the lunch in front of her, situated neatly in a green lunch box.

He must have been staring, because she turned toward him slightly, looking uncomfortable. "Um, can I help you?"

"Uh." He struggled to find his tongue. She was easily one of the cutest girls he had ever seen. Almost as pretty as Tara Markov. "Uhm."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Garfield blinked rapidly. "What? Oh! No! I've just, uh, never seen anyone over here before. Like, for lunch."

The girl bit her lip and looked down at her lunch box. It was the color of celery. "That's probably because I'm new. I didn't know this was reserved. I can…go, I guess." She snapped her lunch box shut and stood.

"No, no, no, wait!" Garfield almost tossed his lunch to the ground he moved so fast. He blushed at her mildly scared expression. "I mean, you can sit there. It's…uh…not taken." He grabbed his sandwich and took a huge, nervous bite. He was most likely the color of a tomato. The girl sat back down.

"My name's Garfield," Gar said around chunks of peanut butter. "But you can call me Gar. Or Garfield. Or whatever, ya know? I just…uh, yeah."

She blinked slowly. "I'm Rachel. Why do you have a black eye?"

Garfield rubbed the back of his head. "I…er…got in a fight. Uh...you should see the other guy!" He laughed slightly. Hopefully she hadn't already heard about his inglorious defeat the day before.

To his surprise, she laughed. It was a small, pretty laugh. It made her eyes squint and his heart jump into his throat.

"You're kinda funny." She smiled.

Garfield's stomach flipped. "You really think so? Really?"

Rachel blushed and cleared her throat, the smile leaving her face. "Yeah, sure."

Garfield took another bite of his sandwich, this time happily. When the lunch bell rang, signaling a return to class, the two stood and looked at each other.

"So, uhm," Gar paused, scuffing the heel of his sneaker against the ground, "do ya wanna sit over here tomorrow? I mean, you don't have to. I just thought that maybe –"

She cut him off. "I would like to sit over here tomorrow, Garfield," she said softly. The smile pulled at her lips again. It made Gar feel like his body was full of firecrackers.

Lunch had managed to turn into his least favorite to his favorite forty-five minutes because of one girl's smile.

…

A/N – Hello my dears. If you liked this, I suggest checking out one of my older fics: The Freak Club. Hope you liked it, let me know your thoughts!


	4. Scars

She had locked herself into the bathroom again. It was the fourth time in the last week, but she no longer cared. She was sitting on the lid of the toilet seat, knees drawn up against her naked chest. She was tracing a scar that ran up the length of her calf. The skin was tough and puckered, a slightly darker gray than the rest of her skin. Raven couldn't remember where the scar had come from. Some battle at some point, most likely. It marred her alabaster skin – a crack in the marble of a Greek statue.

If she looked up, she could see her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She didn't want to look, but did anyway. Beneath her large, indigo eyes were dark gray half-circles. Her hair fell lankly on either side of her face – it needed a wash. Her cheeks were almost colorless, and slightly sunken in. She was exhausted, and it showed.

Raven looked back down. There was another scar on her knee. It was smaller, more of a faint line than anything. She ran her fingernail across it. One would think that she wouldn't have scars, what with her healing powers, but she was truly unable to get rid of them. She could staunch the blood flow, could take some of the pain away, but scars remained.

She unfolded her legs, letting them touch the floor. Slowly, she stood. Her entire body from the waist up was visible in the mirror. She began the same ritual she had performed the last three times she had locked herself away. Raven touched her fingertips to each and every scar on her form; from the one that nicked her left hip to a longer one just beneath her collarbone. Some were small and white, barely visible. Others were rough and dark, stretching angrily over her skin.

"Ugly," she heard herself whisper, her index finger tracing a line at the base of her chin. "Disfigured." Tears silently dripped down her cheeks. Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it. Raven saw herself as a ragged, used up doll. One that had been sewn back together one too many times. What was the point of healing an injury if it was just going to leave hideous reminders of her pain?

Normally, Raven wouldn't be so worried over her flesh. Everyone had scars. Not as much as her, probably, but still. No, she was upset because she had recently had a reminder of why she hated her looks. Especially her scars.

They had just taken down the HIVE Five again. As the disorganized group was led away in handcuffs, some previously terrorized citizens came rushing up to thank the Titans. Raven, who was in an unnaturally good mood, took down her hood. A few preteen boys hanging at the back of the group immediately turned their attention to her, pointing and whispering among themselves. Raven started to feel slightly uneasy as two of the boys approached her.

"Uh, can I take a picture with you?" The first boy asked. He had a shock of bright orange hair and freckles. He reminded Raven of Kid Flash.

Raven was about to refuse, but saw Robin out of the corner of her eye. The Boy Wonder had his head cocked toward her, one eyebrow raised expectantly. She could practically hear his voice in her head: _Just take the picture, Raven. They're going to take one anyway; you might as well be prepared._

She clenched her jaw. "If you must." The boy flashed a rather mischievous grin and handed his phone to the other boy. He wrapped a much too tight arm around Raven's shoulders and smiled at the camera. Raven remained stoic.

After the picture was taken, the boys threw out a "thanks" and took off running for the group. As they left, the redhead screamed "I took a picture with the witch! You owe me _ten bucks_!" Raven stiffened.

"The agreement was five!" the boy he was speaking to yelled back.

"But I _touched_ her! That's worth another five!"

"He's got a point," the picture-taker said, shuddering. "She's even scarier up close!"

These words echoed in Raven's head as she stared at her naked form in the mirror. _The witch. She's even scarier up close._ The tears began to come faster, thick rivulets streaming over her skin.

A knock on the door startled her. She snatched her bathrobe off of the towel hook and wrapped it over her form. She began to swipe at her face. "Yes?" she said, praying her voice wouldn't waver.

"You alright in there?" Raven suppressed a sigh. It was Beast Boy.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, placing a hand against the door.

"Are you sure?" His tone was laced with worry. She could feel it in his aura too – he was practically radiating it.

Raven remained quiet for a moment. Did she want his comfort? She had come to him more than once in a time of hardship. However, Beast Boy was usually on the receiving end.

"Don't answer that," Beast Boy suddenly said. "I heard you talking." Raven drew away from the door, her mouth falling open. Her cheeks burned. A pause from outside; then, sheepishly, "I've kinda had to pee for a while."

Raven rested her forehead on her palm. He definitely wasn't going to go away. She pressed the button to open the door.

The changeling stood there, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked mildly surprised that she had opened the door. "What's wrong, Rae?" he asked softly.

The sorceress looked down at her bare feet, hugging her robe to her sides. "I'm not feeling very…confident." Well, that was one way to put it.

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow. "Is this because of those kids last week? I thought I told you; they're just a bunch of punks. "

Raven shrugged. "They weren't wrong. I am not…visually pleasing."

The green teen barked a single, loud laugh. "Are you saying that you think you're _ugly_?"

"Well, I'm not –"

Beast Boy held up a gloved hand. "Stop. Just stop. Raven, you're beautiful."

The half-demon balked at this, her cheeks flaming. "Wh-what?"

"You're beautiful." He shrugged. "It's a statement of fact."

Raven needed a moment to recollect her thoughts. She backed up into the bathroom, stumbling over her tongue. "But….my scars." It came out a squeaky whisper. "They only serve to make me –"

"Uglier?" his tone had gotten harsher. Raven felt a spark of anger come off of him. He stepped into the bathroom, smacking his palm against the button to make it close. She stepped back instinctively. Beast Boy was larger than her, and in her current state she was in no shape to stand up for herself.

Before Raven knew what was happening, Beast Boy reached behind his head and began to tug the shirt of his uniform off. Raven's eyes widened. The changeling threw the clothing to the floor and straightened up, revealing his bare torso. "Beast Boy, what are you –"

Beast Boy turned around, showing his back to her. A small gasp caught in her throat. Across his back, ivy on jade, were long, wicked looking scars. Whipping scars.

"Before I joined the Doom Patrol, I ended up with a really bad guy. He hurt me, treated me like an animal. Whenever I didn't do a trick correctly, he used the whip on me."

Raven felt tears pushing at her eyes again. She reached out a tentative, shaky hand. Her fingertips brushed the scar tissue. Her teammate didn't flinch as she traced out the marks. The tears rolled over her eyelids and fell down her face. She wiped them away with a free hand.

When she was done looking at the scars, Beast Boy turned around again. He searched her face with his emerald eyes. Raven tentatively dipped into his emotions: no trace of anger now, only sorrow – for himself or for her she couldn't tell. The changeling gently took her hands. Raven didn't pull away.

"I like to think of the body as a canvas," Beast Boy murmured, running his thumbs over her upturned palms. "You're born with a blank one. Throughout your life, you collect paint for your canvas – scars, tattoos, whatever. You aren't a blank canvas, Rae. You're a masterpiece."

She pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around his lean form, pressing her face into his chest to hide the tears.

"Thank you, Beast Boy."

…

A/N – Still alive! Sort of. I've been really busy lately – moving, school starting, a lead role in a production. But I now have some free time, so hopefully I can get back to writing! Thanks for staying with me, lovelies!


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